Sanctus Espiritus
by Maddie Rose
Summary: Loki seeks acceptance, but upon gaining the throne he also seeks a queen - and his gaze is set on the lovely yet naive Valora. She is an innocent, and he is jaded. Yet despite his manipulations, he soon finds himself experiencing inner turmoil on what he desires, and what it will cost. Can there ever be a chance for redemption? Loki/OC
1. Open Wounds

**Chapter One: Open Wounds**

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**A/N: Hello everyone. Some of you may know me from my Loki/Sif oneshot, "Hurricane". However this is a Loki/OC story. I haven't read the comics, but I've been doing some research into Norse mythology and the comics. Some elements I will come up with myself, for the sake of fitting in with the movies. **

**I wanted to wait until Thor 2 came out, but I just couldn't, not with so many ideas! I only own my OC, Valora. She's about the equivalent of an 18-year-old, meaning that she will only just come of age. I hope you enjoy, and please review! Constructive criticism and helpful feedback is always valued.**

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It seemed impossible that they could return to Asgard without one of them being injured. That was the cost of their adventures, Fandral supposed wryly, as he entered the silent halls supporting a wounded Loki. Their venture to Muspelheim to find the fire beads that would warm their hearths had not exactly gone according to plan. Fandral did not like the fire realm in the least. Flames always reminded him of events three decades past that still haunted his sleep.

"Bring him into the infirmary," Thor commanded, his voice booming throughout the still corridors. He marched ahead of his companions, red cloak trailing the floor behind his feet. The Crown Prince of Asgard held a natural air of authority, and at this point in time, also possessed great concern for the wellbeing of his younger brother, who wasn't in the best condition.

Sif darted to Loki's other side when his legs threatened to collapse, helping Fandral to haul their friend into the infirmary. Loki's injury was not fatal, but it was serious enough to merit worrying about. The Fire Demons had not been pleased about their presence – although this was common when Thor and his companions appeared in realms that were not always welcoming.

"Fandral?" A girl's voice caused the bearded blonde warrior to turn, only to see his younger sister Valora standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. It was obvious that their entrance had roused her from sleep, as her golden blonde hair was like a fluffy halo around her head, and she was wearing her thin white nightdress. "What's going on?"

"Loki is wounded," Thor announced, gesturing to his brother as he was set gently down on the bed, causing the dark-haired man to groan. It didn't entirely surprise Valora – Thor and the others were always going out on adventures. Fandral strictly forbade Valora from accompanying them, stating that as she was not yet of age, it was not acceptable and highly dangerous. However, Valora would be of age within the month, although she doubted Fandral's attitude would change.

"You went out again?!" she exclaimed. Valora couldn't help feeling betrayed about such things as them going out without informing her. She was the youngest of the group of Asgardians – and also the smallest at 5'5, much to her chagrin – and Fandral always seemed to treat her like she was a baby.

"Yes, we went out again," Fandral replied wearily, used to his sister's complaints and scolding by now.

"Odin won't be happy," Valora muttered under her breath, glancing at Loki, whose shirt had gone dark from his bleeding wound. She couldn't tell how deep the wound was, but she would be able to assess it once they got his shirt off. She gnawed at her lip and mentally prepared herself to mend the wounds of the flesh, as she had done countless times with Thor, Fandral and the others.

"We don't require a chastising, Valora." Sif leaned down to cut open Loki's shirt, exposing the wound so that the younger girl could better examine it. The blonde was known to be disapproving about their ventures, primarily because Fandral would rather lose a limb than allow her to accompany them.

"Loki? Can you hear me?" Valora sat down on the bed beside him, inspecting the wound critically. It wasn't too deep or severe, but he had lost a lot of blood in the time taken to return to Asgard.

"Yes," Loki replied a bit deliriously. Valora placed a hand gently on Loki's wound regardless of the blood, causing him to wince at the slight pressure. She would have to consume her own energy in healing him, but she'd regain it when she went back to bed and got some sleep. Valora frowned over her shoulder at Fandral.

"Next time, I'm coming too."

"No." Fandral stated sternly. "You most certainly are not."

Valora's empathic abilities meant that she was in tune with whatever they felt, and her healing skills were very useful for whenever one of them was injured. However, her fighting skills were adequate at best, and Fandral didn't think he could fight properly with the knowledge that his sister could be in harm's way.

"I'm not a child," Valora persisted, drawing upon her energy and starting to knit together Loki's flesh. Despite the fact that she looked like a fragile little doll, and couldn't fight well enough to save herself, Valora never flinched in the face of an injury, no matter how much blood and gore was involved.

"You are still a child, Valora," Fandral reminded her, although he knew that it wouldn't be for much longer. His sister was growing up, and that notion frightened him slightly. Ever since their father had died, it had been his job to look after her – well, until she found a husband. Yet Fandral knew that his sister remained naïve, and innocent to the ways of men.

"Fandral, it's unfair," Valora insisted. She didn't like arguing with her brother, especially as it was the same argument time and time again. Yet Fandral never listened, never seemed to see that she was almost grown up.

"No, it is not." Fandral folded his arms over his steel-plated chest. "It is my duty to protect you, and that is what I am doing."

Valora turned her attention away from her brother and drew her hand away from Loki's wound, picking up a cloth and wiping away the blood that was caked on her hand. Loki pushed himself up slowly, examining the wound that was now a mere scratch.

"Thank you."

Valora clambered to her feet also, although she found her head spinning from the energy she had diverted to healing Loki's wound. She swayed slightly and her brother quickly stepped forward to catch her, steadying her.

"I'm fine, Fandral," Valora insisted, glaring up at her brother. "I just want to come next time."

"No." Fandral felt like he was repeating himself. Why didn't Valora get the message? He could not fight knowing that she might be danger, always worrying that he would turn and find her with a blade in her heart. She wrenched away from him, blue eyes burning with anger.

"I tire of being treated like a baby."

Thor strode over and examined his brother, as Loki ran fingers over the wound that was now no more than an agitated red mark on his pale skin. He knew of Valora's abilities, of course – but it was astounding to see the changes caused. He felt renewed with energy, although glancing at Valora, he could see that healing the wound had caused the girl to become dizzy. She seemed even more frail than usual.

"She truly has a gift," Loki remarked, as Valora looked around the infirmary with tired blue eyes. She did not work as a healer in terms of an occupation, however she was more than willing to volunteer her skills from time to time should the situation arise. This concerned Fandral, as he believed that should his sister expend her abilities, it would kill her.

"Is there anyone else who is injured?" she inquired.

"Only a few minor scratches." Sif shook back her dark hair, knowing it was folly to let Valora heal each small wound they had. The girl's gift should be saved for more troubling injuries. "You should return to bed, Valora. You look weary."

"I'm fine," Valora declared, concealing a yawn behind her hand. Her brother noticed this immediately and rolled his eyes skywards.

"Sif is right, Valora. You need rest to regain your energy."

Always the obedient little sister, Valora nodded, taking her brother's words into account. Fandral was always right about such matters, as he understood the nature of her gift better than anyone – perhaps even better than she did.

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Valora often dreamed of darkness. She didn't know why, but that didn't stop it from haunting her sleep. She woke in the night reaching out for her father, Calder, only for him to slip through her grasp. Such dreams made her feel that the sheets were suffocating her, and she crossed to the balcony to gaze out at the stars, wrapping her arms around herself. The night sky looked so beautiful from her vantage point, and almost instantly, she felt calmer.

Valora had often felt guilty for the death of her mother, something that she hadn't been able to help but that had affected both her and Fandral nonetheless. Their mother, Ingrid, had died during Valora's complicated birth. It pained Valora to have never known her own mother, but she always cast such thoughts aside. She had been content with her father and brother, knowing that at least she had them.

Until the day Fafnir burned her father alive and Fandral had come back to deliver the grievous news to his little sister. Valora hugged herself tighter. She couldn't help wondering what things would be like if Calder was still alive. Fandral was a good brother and his intentions were pure when it came to her, however she could not help but find him very overbearing. She was no longer a child, yet he refused to see that.

It had been three decades since Calder's death. Valora had always been a meek girl, one who tended to the plants in her own personal garden and was more than happy to care for wounded animals. Yet after Calder died, she became extremely introverted, barely speaking to anyone save Fandral. Her brother even slept on the floor of her room for a few weeks and cared for her when she suffered from violent nightmares.

Yet relying on Fandral would only prove to him what she continued to deny: that she was a child. Physically, Valora was a woman – not even Fandral could argue that – but she had never been subject to the attentions of men. None had ever approached her, whether because they did not find her attractive or because they found Fandral intimidating, she did not know. Besides, when there were women like Sif around, why would they bother paying shy Valora any attention?

She did get along with all of the Asgardians her brother spent time with, yet she felt somewhat excluded as she did not accompany them on their adventures. That made her feel lonely, like she was missing out on something bigger. They talked about their good times, laughed about them over feasts – yet Valora could never relate. She felt isolated, although sometimes Fandral would notice and attempt to change the topic of conversation.

Valora pushed herself away from the ledge of her balcony and wandered out into her garden, a miniature paradise in itself. All the plants there she had grown herself, and it was amazing to see how big some of them had gotten over the centuries. She often found herself venturing out at night, although Fandral often chastised her for wandering. She knew what he was afraid of – losing her too. But she was almost certain that he would not.

Taking a deep breath, Valora lay down beneath one of the taller trees, gazing up at the stars in the sky and the leaves that whispered overhead. If only she was a warrior like Sif, a woman she idolized. Yet despite her brother's prowess, she was not made for such things. She was a fragile thing. Fandral often nicknamed her 'little doll', which she despised. It only made her feel all the more delicate. She was not as breakable as he or anyone else thought. Closing her eyes, Valora resolved that somehow, she would prove it.


	2. You Can Sleep When You're Dead

**Chapter Two: You Can Sleep When You're Dead**

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** A/N: OMG 10 reviews?! For one chapter?! You guys are so amazing! I hope you like this chapter, and please do review! Let me know what you like, what you don't.**

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Valora was all too used to celebrations within the realm of Asgard. It seemed that every time something of note occurred, there would be a feast to honour it. Not that she minded – and of course, neither did Fandral. It gave him perfect opportunity to flirt with the women of Asgard, as he was so prone to doing. What Valora was not used to was celebrations occurring because of _her_.

Coming of age was something that happened to every Asgardian, but she was quite a fair bit younger than the others, so it had been many years since one of them had come of age. She thought perhaps Sif had been the last. The feeling of being so painfully young did little to ease her concerns that Fandral would insist on treating her like a child even after she came of age. It was only days now until she was of age and it made her feel somewhat powerful. Perhaps the time would finally come when her brother and his friends would accept her as a worthy companion in their quests.

"What do you think of this dress?" Valora inquired, twirling around to face a rather bored Sif with a crimson and gold dress pressed to her body. She had always admired the older girl, although she knew that there was never any chance of her becoming a warrior. She did not possess Sif's tall, lean build. Instead she was small with soft womanly curves, and it frustrated her. Her own build was a barrier.

Frigga was Valora's true inspiration. Odin's wife carried herself with an effortless grace that never failed to leave young Valora wide-eyed. She dressed impeccably, she held herself like a true queen. She often looked in the mirror and attempted to imitate Frigga's posture, but Valora knew that she was no queen. Just a warrior's sister who had no idea where she stood, only knowing that her gift for healing was rare among the Aesir.

Yet there was always the sense of guilt that came with her father's death. Did Fandral blame her? Could Valora have saved him, if she had already been in the infirmary when Calder had been brought back? She shook her head, banishing such thoughts. The past was gone now, no more than an echo. She had to focus on the present – and the future.

"Not crimson." Sif shook her head slowly. "It's too bold for you. Besides, I think blue would look nicer, to go with your eyes. Do you have anything blue?"

Valora sighed heavily and hung the crimson dress back up. Of course it was too bold for someone as meek as her. Yet she couldn't help but _want_ to dare, to be someone she wasn't, to feign a confidence she didn't feel. Filing through her nicer dresses, Valora tugged out a sky-blue and silver one, holding it up to the light for Sif's inspection.

"This one, then?"

"Yes," Sif said decisively. Valora wondered what the older woman would be wearing, although she knew Sif would look radiant in whatever her choice of outfit was, simply because like Frigga, she was confident in herself. Valora used to hunch her shoulders when she was younger, a habit Fandral and their father had scolded her out of.

"Will it be a very big feast?" Valora asked, laying the dress across the bed and searching for some matching jewellery. She did not dress up often, but when she did she felt it best to put all her effort into it – especially when the celebration was about her. The last event within her family that had been as big as her coming of age celebration had been Calder's funeral, ironically. Again, Valora chastised herself for focusing on such grim memories when there were far more cheerful things occurring at present.

"I'd imagine so," Sif stated, watching as the younger girl sorted through her jewellery. Valora was practically like a younger sister to her, considering her close relationship with the Warriors Three. She knew how much it annoyed the blonde to be babied – Sif had once been treated that way, many years ago now. But she had proved herself worthy, and there was no doubt that while Valora was no fighter, she would prove herself in her own way.

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The day Valora came of age was a glorious one indeed. The weather was spectacular and Valora found herself waking up early just to marvel at the sunrise. She had not changed overnight – yet it somehow felt like she had. She smiled and braided her blonde hair back, unable to help but already be excited about the coming night's feast. Usually she kept to herself at celebrations, sometimes speaking with her brother or an equally solitary Loki…but tonight was going to be about _her._

A sharp knock on the door drew Valora from her thoughts. Only her brother would come up to her rooms so early. Smiling, she hurried over and opened it – and she was right, it was Fandral. In his arms was a small bundle of reddish-brown fluff that Valora inspected with wide eyes. The tiny creature was just as curious, sniffing at Valora.

"Congratulations, sister." Fandral grinned broadly and glanced down at the furry creature in his arms. "I got you a present. A riding party returned with a litter of these wolf pups. The mother is dead, but the Veterinarian Guild should have some sort of milk the pup can drink."

Valora eagerly accepted the wolf pup from her brother. It was a warm little thing that nuzzled up to her immediately. She felt a fierce love for the small creature and set about stroking its fur, marveling in its softness.

"It's beautiful, Fandral. Is it a boy or girl?"

"Boy," Fandral replied, watching with a proud smile as his little sister fondly stroked her present. "What are you going to call him?"

Valora had to think upon that for a moment. She had never really had a proper pet. When she'd been younger, she had taken in injured birds or small animals for the purpose of using her amateur, then clumsy gift to heal them. Calder had put a stop to this when he had learned what his daughter was doing.

"All things pass on, dear one," he had informed her, when she'd cried about a bird whose neck he had snapped. "Sometimes, it is better to give them a merciful death rather than trying to heal them to no avail."

"Liulfr," Valora declared, looking at her brother for approval. "I think I shall call him Liulfr."

"A good name," Fandral agreed with a nod. "He is small now, but he will grow big and strong one day, a creature to be feared by enemies."

Looking down at the whining, furry little pup in her arms, Valora found that very difficult to believe, although she knew it to be true. It was the same with children. They started off so small, but within the years they sprouted up like trees. It took time when their aging started to slow, yet it was inevitable nonetheless. She knelt down and gently set the tiny creature on the ground, watching as Liulfr raced around her room, yapping at inanimate objects.

"I'm looking forward to the feast tonight," Valora said excitedly, clasping her hands together and watching the ball of fluff sniff curiously at her dresser.

"I wish he could have been here to see you come of age," Fandral stated quietly, causing Valora to glance at him quizzically. It was the first time in a while that he'd voluntarily brought Calder up – because Valora knew for certain that he was talking about their father. His tone was heavy and she couldn't help but cross over and wrap her arms around her brother. Fandral was not as comfortable with embraces as Valora, but he hugged his little sister back nonetheless.

"Would he be proud of me?" Valora asked uncertainly. Their father had been a harsh man – harsh, but just. Fandral had inherited that from him, whereas Valora had the softer, sweeter temperament of their mother. She wondered if he would be disappointed with the woman she had become.

"Yes," Fandral remarked, trying to keep emotion out of his voice. He couldn't think of Fafnir, or his father. It was his sister's coming of age, and that was what mattered.

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Loki had never really been one for celebrations. Thor was the social one – he laughed and chatted with ease. The younger prince of Asgard was more one for the shadows of corridors, and the shelves of libraries. The people at celebrations were beneath his contempt – many were often drunk and pawing at each other like they had no decency. However, Loki knew that tonight was special for Valora, and he had no wish to appear rude by declining to attend altogether.

Valora was the sort of person that Loki could not despise. There was such a light within her soul, innocence and eternal hope in those blue eyes. She was just too childishly naïve for him to dislike. While Fandral was always treating his sister like she was a child, but Loki had no doubts that Valora was a woman now – well, in some ways. He understood the feeling of underestimation all too well.

"Sulking over by the mead barrels, brother?" Thor clapped Loki heartily on the shoulder, causing the younger man to wince. Sometimes Thor did not even know his own physical power – something that Loki had never inherited. He was one Asgardian who prided himself on his magic over his warrior prowess.

"Hardly," Loki stated, a flash of colour in the corner of his eye making him turn to see Valora descending the stairs. Her blonde curls were tied up in a knot at the back of her head, and she was wearing a blue and silver dress. A shy smile crossed her lips, but there was nothing childlike about her at all. In fact, many had turned to look at the girl, mostly because this celebration was for her.

"Congratulations, Valora!" Thor boomed, crossing over and pulling the girl into a tight hug. It was amusing to watch a man as big as Thor embracing someone so much smaller than him, and when he drew back, Valora laughed and smoothed out the crinkles in her dress. Loki approached her too, taking her hand and kissing the back of it as though they were strangers rather than longtime friends.

"You look spectacular."

Her cheeks flushed a becoming red at such a compliment. "Thank you, Loki. You look dashing as always. It's just…so big. It's hard to think that all of this is for me."

"But of course." Loki's eyes sought out Fandral, only to realise that the man had already gone about charming an auburn-haired woman at the table. It was typical – he was quite the womanizer. "It is your coming of age. Would you like a drink to commemorate the occasion?"

"Yes, please," Valora replied, trailing over after Loki as he poured her some mead. She was not much of a drinker, as Fandral disapproved of her having excessive amounts of alcohol. She accepted the goblet from Loki with a word of thanks, aware of his intense gaze on her as she took a few sips of the mead. Small bits at a time, she reminded herself, so that she wouldn't have a coughing fit and embarrass herself.

She set the mug down on the table, watching as Loki's green eyes searched the room. Was she boring him? She bit her lip. Perhaps meek and mild little Valora in the blue and silver dress wasn't colourful enough for this sort of celebration. She should have won the crimson dress in the hope that the fierce colour would lend her some boldness. Pushing herself to dare a little, Valora turned to Loki.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked.

Loki was a little taken aback. Yes, he did dance at some of these feasts, and he knew that Valora certainly did. They may have danced together once or twice, but it had been some time ago. However it was her celebration, so he offered her his hand, causing a smile to spread across her face as he led her across to an empty section of floor. Valora put her arms around his neck and Loki rested his hands lightly on her waist, paranoid that Fandral would come storming over at any moment.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Loki inquired. He wasn't really one for making small talk, but Valora did have more in common with him than most. She liked reading books and focusing on perfecting her magic rather than fighting. It was something rare few Asgardians preferred.

"Of course." Valora seemed to radiate energy and bubbliness. She might not usually be confident, but it seemed that when she had the chance to be, Valora could be very bright and social. Loki took the chance to twirl her, catching her lightly by the waist again when she came to face him. The light that danced in Valora's blue eyes was enough to tell him that she was having a good time.

After the song had ended, Valora offered him a smile and drew away, flitting across the room to grab her brother by the arm. Loki watched her without meaning to, wondering how one person could be so full of energy and life. When Fandral looked his way, Loki turned his gaze and set off to grab his last goblet of mead before retiring for the night.


	3. Healing Hands

**Chapter Three: Healing Hands**

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** A/N: Soo, not as many reviews last chapter...any reason? Is there something wrong, or not working? Please do let me know! Also, it's not long now until Thor 2? WHO IS EXCITED? I know I am ;)**

**The character of Destin is one I made up, and although he might seem completely irrelevant, he will have a purpose - perhaps not for a while, but definitely by the time we get to post-Avengers/pre-Thor 2 territory. I know, that's a fair way off, but he will play a role before then, just not so major.**

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The entirety of Asgard was abuzz at the arrival of Destin, a nephew of the King of Vanaheim. Although he was not an immediate heir to the throne, many of the ladies at court were flocking to see the young prince, hoping for a marriage into Vanir nobility. Valora had witnessed him briefly, while attempting to walk Liulfr. The wayward pup had nearly tripped the poor prince over. She had only time to note that he was brown-haired and freckled, not too many centuries older than her, before she scooped up Liulfr and stammered a dozen apologies before retreating from sight.

Many young women were obsessing over Destin, but in honesty, Valora was just curious as to why he was in Asgard. Vanaheim and Asgard had been on frosty yet polite terms, after a war that had been waged between the two when Valora had been but a small child. She remembered little of it, but knew that it was not common for the noble families of one realm to visit the other. This made Valora think that Destin's mission was one of peace. Perhaps he had a younger sister to offer Thor or Loki in marriage.

"Valora." Fandral knocked on his sister's door, causing the blonde girl to look up from where she was attempting to comb the burs from Liulfr's fluffy coat. "May I come in?"

"Yes." Valora removed the last of the burs from the puppy's fur, earning an indignant yelp, before she set the brush aside and crossed over to open the door. Fandral strode in, beaming delightedly at the sight of the small puppy bolting about the room. He shook his head and then turned his attention upon his sister.

"There are a few things I wished to talk to you about, sister. Please, sit down."

Valora found it a bit odd being told to sit in her own room, but she did so anyway. She reached for Liulfr, but Fandral caught her wrist and shook his head. Surprised, Valora drew back and frowned deeply.

"You are not a child," Fandral informed her, beginning to pace. "You are of age now, and playing with that pup does not demonstrate that. There are people that have begun to notice you, Valora, notice that you are not a little girl anymore."

"What?" Valora was surprised at this. No one had been overly forward to her since the celebration of her coming of age, and she had seen no one looking at her in the way Fandral was implying. "Who?"

"Loki, it would seem." Fandral raked a hand through his hair, sharp eyes turning upon his sister. "But you are to pay him no mind. Loki is a friend of mine, but he is very clever and very prone to manipulating. You would do well to pay no heed to his flirtations."

Valora was astonished. Loki, flirting with her? Was that what it had been? She hadn't even noticed such a thing. Perhaps Fandral was exaggerating. He had always been an overprotective older brother, to the point where Valora often found him to be a little too extreme. Perhaps one thing in Valora's eyes was another entirely in Fandral's.

"I doubt he was flirting with me, Fandral," Valora replied calmly, watching as Liulfr sniffed around her brother's boots. "He doesn't seem like the sort to deceive women. He is introverted, yes, but he is kind of heart…"

"Valora." Fandral smiled and knelt before his sister, touching her cheek tenderly. "My sweet sister. You know little if anything of the hearts of men. You are an attractive young woman, and some only seek out beauty."

"But many don't." Valora tugged away from Fandral, pushing herself to her feet. She was so tired of being treated as though she was young and naïve, as though she didn't know anything about the world around her. Perhaps she didn't, but she was willing to learn by seeing things through her own eyes, not by being told how to think. Fandral sighed heavily, no doubt seeing that the conversation was not going anywhere.

"I am going for a ride with Thor, Destin and several of the others." He kissed his sister's cheek briefly, before turning and walking towards the door. "I shall see you at dinner."

Fandral closed the door behind him and Valora picked up Liulfr, indignant about it all. It was true that she had never done anything with men, but part of the reason for that was Fandral himself, who grew livid if anyone so much as looked at his sister the wrong way. She wondered what life would be like without an older brother, but abruptly dismissed the thought. She should be happy with what she had, not wish for what she didn't.

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It was several hours later that Valora looked up from her book to an insistent hammering upon her door. Sighing in annoyance, she marked her page and strode over. Could her brother not have the decency to knock more quietly, instead of almost thumping her door down? She wrenched the door open with irritable words on her lips, however they died in her throat when she noticed that it was not Fandral, but Thor. Judging by his desperate blue eyes, something was very wrong.

"Is it Fandral?" Valora asked, immediately assuming the worst. If anything had happened to her brother, she didn't think she could ever forgive herself for her harsh thoughts against him. A quick glance into the corridor made her all the more desperate.

"No, your brother is unharmed," Thor replied, making Valora's shoulders slump in relief. "It's the prince from Vanaheim. Destin. There was a riding accident and he has broken his leg badly. Unless the wound can be fixed, the healers think they may have to remove part of his below the knee."

Valora bit her lip, understanding what Thor was asking of her – and hoping that she was up to the task. Closing the door behind her, she followed Thor down towards the infirmary, her heart beating a frantic tempo in her chest, her palms becoming clammy. She had healed minor wounds before, and even moderate ones had been healed with success. However judging by Thor's description of the wound's severity, Valora was not sure whether she could do it. What would happen if she couldn't? No doubt Destin and the others would blame her failure on the loss of his lower leg.

The infirmary was bustling with activity, as Valora had expected. An injured prince of Vanaheim would not do, for if he returned home with tales of his misfortune, his people would no doubt accuse the Aesir of engineering the injury. Now understanding the importance of her task, Valora felt a little light-headed as she drifted over to the bed where the brown-haired young man was being fussed over. His freckled face was contorted in pain and Valora pressed a hand over her mouth as her eyes fell upon his wounded leg.

There was a glimmer of white that could only be bone that had pierced through the skin. Blood stained Destin's skin, and the sheets and bandages beneath him. He twisted every now and again, arching up in agony. Swallowing hard, Valora realised that no matter, she had to save this poor Vanir prince from losing part of his leg. She drew closer to him and gently touched his shoulder.

"Your…your Highness? My name is Valora. I'm here to help you."

"Can you truly heal it?" Destin rasped. Valora was aware that the Vanir possessed some magical talents, which were more common than among the Aesir. But among her own kind, she was seen as special, because although others had abilities, there were no known Aesir with Valora's particular gift. It was the one thing that made her noteworthy.

"I can only try," Valora stated, earning a frantic nod from Destin. Those surrounding the bed, including a grim Fandral, drew back in order to allow Valora to access the wound. She gently laid a hand over the broken skin, earning a pained yelp from Destin. Closing her eyes, Valora summoned all of her energy and skill into knitting together the wound.

Upon commencing, she realised, to her utter relief, that the wound was not as complicated as she had expected. The bone had broken clean through the skin without leaving behind any fragments. However, it was still deep, so Valora pushed her energy out, feeling the familiar tingling in her fingers. It was easier to concentrate with her eyes closed, so that she didn't think so much about people watching her. The flesh and bone moved below her hand, but gore had never perturbed her.

When the wound was mended to the best of her ability, Valora opened her eyes to feel that her world was spinning around her. She attempted to push herself to her feet, only to collapse. Fandral caught her before she hit the floor, but although he seemed to be saying something to her, she couldn't hear him. Valora could only see Destin's leg, bloody but better, as she let herself fall into the void.

* * *

Valora opened her eyes to sunshine streaming through the windows. Blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness, she noticed a concerned Fandral sitting by her bedside. Seeing her open her eyes, he was immediately beside her, reaching for her hand and clutching it tightly in his. She smiled weakly and sat up slowly. Although she felt slightly dizzy, there seemed to be nothing else wrong with her.

"I feared that your efforts to heal the Vanir prince had killed you," Fandral confessed, hugging his sister close. "Don't ever frighten me like that again. If it's too much for you, you say so. Don't keep going because you're afraid of letting people down."

Valora sighed heavily. She supposed that was a major part of the problem. She was so used to being left out that when she did have a chance to fit in, she would do her utmost to prove that they hadn't been wrong to include her.

"How is Destin's leg?"

"It's almost the same as it was before the accident." Fandral offered his sister a smile. "He'll have a slight limp, but that's nothing compared to what it could have been had you not intervened. I'm certain he will be very grateful."

Valora couldn't help but feel pleased with herself. She didn't think she had ever mended a wound as severe as Destin's, and judging by the toll it had on her, she doubted she would be doing so regularly. Fandral offered her a cup of warm tea and Valora took it gratefully, sipping it up despite its heat. Tea was always her saviour in times when her energy was low.

She wondered what Loki would have thought of the display. Fandral would have chastised her for thinking of him, but he was also a magic user. Did he think she had done the right thing, or would he have reprimanded her for putting so much effort into an endeavour which could just as easily have failed as succeeded? Valora decided to inquire about him, tentatively so as not to earn her brother's annoyance.

"Was Loki present when I healed Destin?"

"He was." Fandral frowned, as Valora had anticipated. "Why do you ask?"

Valora shrugged. She hadn't remembered who had been around her at the time of Destin's healing, for she had been only concentrated on the Vanir prince's wound. It had sucked the energy clean out of her, and Valora wondered if Loki – a very accomplished magic user for one of the Aesir – might be able to help her in conserving such energy. He was older than her, knew a lot more about magic than her. Perhaps it would be worth talking to him about her abilities, and asking more about his own.

"I just wished to speak with him about magic. That's all."

"I don't know if that's a wise idea…" Fandral started, but Valora cut him off in a sharp voice.

"Fandral, you know less about magic than me. I have to discuss it with someone, and who better than him? I want to know my limitations. I _need_ to know them. Otherwise I could end up starting what I can't finish, healing a wound that will ultimately drain me and kill me. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not, Valora," Fandral replied, and he suddenly sounded so weary. His blue eyes were tired when Valora looked into them and she regretted snapping at her brother in such a way. "By all means, speak with Loki if that is what you so desire. But remember what I told you. Be careful, and do not encourage him."


	4. Different Kinds of Magic

**Chapter Four: Different Kinds of Magic**

* * *

**A/N: Oh wow! I got a heap of reviews from last chapter and I wanted to thank all of you so much! I'm guessing by now most of you have seen Thor 2 as I have - and I have plenty of ideas concerning Loki and Valora during that time period. Lokora? Vaki? What's a good ship name? Anyway, there's a lot more interaction between them this chapter, so please do enjoy! Reviews are always very much appreciated, and help inspire quicker updates :)**

* * *

"You wish to discuss magic with me?"

The amused tone of Loki's voice and the knowing gleam in his green eyes told Valora that he knew precisely why she had come to visit him. She nibbled at her lip uncertainly, not sure how to respond to the obviously rhetorical question. Loki laughed easily at her hesitation, swinging the door open wider.

"Welcome to my quarters, Lady Valora. Sometimes, I believe it holds more books than the library."

Valora peered into the younger prince of Asgard's room. He wasn't exaggerating about the books – they were piled on several desks around the place, and the lack of dust suggested that they were read often. Loki's quarters were far more spacious than her own – although that was to be expected, considering his status was above hers. She turned to face Loki, watching as he closed the door behind her.

"How did you know why I had come?"

"Everyone in Asgard has likely heard of you healing Destin by now." Loki sat down, gesturing for Valora to do the same. She took a seat opposite, with Fandral's warnings running through her head. She doubted she would need them – it was not like Loki to display suggestive behaviour, even though they were alone together. "That was quite impressive, I must say."

"Thank you." Valora was unsure what to say. Impressed, Loki? Somehow she thought he was merely complimenting her. She took a deep breath and tried to banish her natural coyness, glancing across at him. "I wanted to talk to you about limits. I don't know mine yet, but I wish to. I have no desire to embark upon a task that I cannot complete, or that may potentially kill me. So how do I know when to stop?"

"Ah." Loki's lips curved upwards into a wry smile. "You see, your magic is very different to mine, Valora. I create illusions, I play tricks. You use your magic to help others by healing them. It's not something that can really be compared."

"So you have no clue?" Valora tried her best not to be dismayed. Loki was one of the few people she could talk to about magic, for few in Asgard knew of how it worked. If anyone did, it would have been Loki. Her eyes strayed back to the stacks of books. Did none of them hold any information that could help her?

"You would feel it." Loki leaned back, his languid gaze resting on Valora. "You rely very much on energy to complete your healing. When you are deprived of this, others may be able to lend you their strength to carry on. But when you feel that you are being drained…when the world starts to slip away…that's when you have cause to be alarmed. Sometimes it's too late to break away though, if you have so much invested in the task at hand."

That thought frightened Valora, the idea that she could use up so much energy that it could kill her. Perhaps Loki was right and it was something that could not be explained. As he had said, his magic was different to hers. It was the sort of thing she could feel while healing, something Loki wouldn't understand.

"My brother says I should not encourage you," Valora murmured, before she felt her cheeks heating up, and she immediately regretted her words. Fandral's words had been for her ears alone, and she felt almost traitorous to share his perspective with Loki, whether it was right or not.

"Really?" Loki quirked an eyebrow upwards in question. "Encourage me in what manner?"

"He believes you may attempt to flirt with me," Valora said quietly, very aware that by now she must have turned an alarming shade of crimson.

Loki threw back his head and laughed delightedly. "Oh, sweet Valora. Perhaps Fandral should take a closer look at himself."

Valora could not help but laugh as well. It was the truth – Fandral was all too eager to charm women, whereas Loki was far more solitary. It seemed silly now she thought about it. Loki, attempting to charm her? Unlikely. In all likelihood, he was simply being friendly. Did he not speak with Sif in the same kind of manner?

* * *

_She did not know where she was or how she had gotten there. All Valora knew was that the place she found herself in so abruptly was not one she recognised. It must be in her head. A stone castle loomed in the distance, a semicircle arch set proudly in front of it like a welcome gate. The only thing that Valora recognised was the freckled young man walking towards her, a warm smile crossing his features._

_"It seems odd to meet like this," Destin mused, glancing over his shoulder at the castle. "But I really didn't have much of an alternative. My leg, although healed by your kind hands, is still needing some natural recovery. The healers won't let me out of the infirmary quite yet."_

_"Where are we?" Valora was extremely confused. She felt like this was a dream, but at the same time, if anything this would be Destin's dream. Was such a thing possible, dreams colliding? Why would she dream about a place she had never seen in her life?_

_"We are in your mind." Destin spread his arms, gesturing around him. "Although I admit, I brought a few things with me. Home being among them."_

_"You're in my mind?" Valora asked incredulously. It would appear that she had discovered another who was proficient in magic. Judging by the world that Destin had created, he was more than adept when it came to entering the minds of others. A shiver ran down Valora's spine. She would be a fool if that did not frighten her._

_Destin held up his hands, palms facing her as if in surrender. "Have no fear, dear Valora. I mean you no harm. This is simply the most convenient way for me to talk to you now. I wished to thank you. If not for your skills, I would likely have lost my leg. Thanks to you, I will not face a permanent disability."_

_"Does this mean you are reading my thoughts?" Valora inquired suspiciously. Although she did not have anything hugely secret within the confines of her mind, she would prefer that Destin did not flick through her innermost thoughts as if they were pages in a book._

_He smiled gently. "Of course not. I would do no such thing without your permission. This is your subconscious. If I attempted to read your thoughts, your conscious mind would realise immediately and attack me."_

_Valora was still trying to make sense of it all. Was this how Loki felt when she discussed her abilities? Magic could be such a complicated thing, especially telepathy, if Destin's words were anything to judge by._

_"I have just come to say that I owe you a debt." Destin stepped closer, tilting his head to the side. "The day will come when I must repay that debt. When that day comes, I will be ready, Valora."_

* * *

Valora rubbed at her temples and tried to come to terms with what had occurred inside her head. She could not tell if a mere minute or several hours had passed. Time had become completely irrelevant. Pushing herself to her feet, Valora swept out of her room, intending to relay the experience to Loki. Perhaps he had experienced telepathy before, but it was certainly a first for her. However, it was Fandral that she nearly cannoned into upon leaving her rooms.

"Sister." Fandral frowned slightly as he inspected her critically. "You look shaken. Is something wrong? Is it to do with your visit with Loki? I'll…"

"No, Fandral," Valora replied wearily, holding up a hand to stop what would likely become an angry tirade. "It was odd…Destin came into my mind and thanked me for saving him. I've never quite felt anything like it."

"Into your mind?" Fandral appeared perplexed. "Whatever do you mean?"

Valora shook her head slowly. "He's telepathic. It was the only way he felt he could communicate with me due to being kept up in the infirmary still."

"He delved in your head?" Fandral's frown deepened and he scratched at his beard, looking as though he was torn between irritation and admiration. "I can understand why, and it was good of him to thank you. However, I would have thought he might have done it in a…less intimate fashion."

Valora blushed furiously, although she endeavoured to hide her embarrassment. She hadn't thought there was anything exactly 'intimate' about it. Perhaps that was the way many of the Vanir communicated. She would not know, for she had never actually visited Vanaheim. The idea that she could have been alive for nearly seven centuries and not been to the realm most similar to Asgard was quite shocking to her.

"I wouldn't call it intimate," Valora shook her hair back as though tossing the idea away. "Besides, I am going to speak to Loki. He knows more about the Vanir than I do. Perhaps he will be able to tell me if this is normal."

"It had better be," Fandral grumbled under his breath as his sister trailed down the corridors in a flurry of skirts.

* * *

"You seem to enjoy visiting me." Loki was reclined on a chair with a book in his hands when Valora knocked on his door. He looked over the pages and offered her a smirk. "Does your brother know you come to my rooms so often?"

Valora ignored his teasing comments, for she knew that he meant nothing by it. Of course Fandral would be infuriated if he made such smug comments to his face…but Valora knew that Loki often liked to stir up trouble simply to amuse himself. She remained a respectable distance away from him, watching as he set down his book and eased himself to his feet. Loki shared his older brother's height, but that was where all similarity ended. Loki was dark-haired and slender, while Thor was blonde and muscular.

"I wanted to ask you about the Vanir."

"Something to do with Destin?" Loki folded his arms over his chest, a mischievous grin spreading across his pale features. "Have you taken a liking to him?"

"No." Valora shook her head fervently. If Loki believed that was true, the rumours would likely be spreading throughout the palace in no time. "Nothing of that nature. I wanted to ask what you know of their abilities. It seems that Destin is a telepath."

"Ah." Loki nodded knowingly. "While the Aesir are more focused on physical prowess, the Vanir are more…arcane. Their abilities often lie in telepathy, telekinesis and precognition. They are renowned for their wisdom."

This description made Valora smile without meaning to. It sounded to her as though she and Loki were more Vanir than Aesir. Loki inspected Valora with raised eyebrows, and she could sense a question on his lips.

"Yes, Loki?"

"Are you sure you have not taken a liking to this Vanir prince? You seem to speak of him often."

"He visited me in my mind," Valora blurted out almost defensively, as if to assure Loki that she had not developed a sudden, girlish crush on Destin like many of the other girls in Asgard. "To thank me for saving his leg. That is all. That is why I was curious."

"Perhaps he has taken a liking to you then," Loki pointed out, causing Valora to frown deeply.

"I wish you would not tease so, Loki. Destin would not take an interest simply because I healed his leg."

Loki laughed, and Valora was suddenly aware of the intensity of his gaze upon her. She did not understand it, but she knew that it made her feel a little uncomfortable. She made a point of staring at her feet.

"You would be surprised what causes men to take an interest, sweet Valora."


End file.
